We all know how pervasive technology has become in our lives, but the impact of “technology” is much more pervasive than merely the arrival of a new widget or gadget. How are you negotiating these boundaries in your life, with your family, in your home? How do Jewish values inform your thinking and decisions about how you use technology in your home?
The front porch is a liminal space — both public and private. It faces the street, making it far more open to the world than a secluded back deck. It also invites visitors into the front hall — the most public of spaces inside the home. Like the chuppah, the porch is covered from above and open on the sides; it protects and welcomes.
When imagining a Jewish kitchen, it would be easy to just picture comforting, nourishing images: chicken soup, gefilte fish, a warm gathering place… But the Jewish kitchen is also a place of rupture. We’re several generations past assuming it’s a kosher kitchen, and many of us could not even replicate our grandmother’s recipes if we tried.
My portrait—and this refrigerator door—examines the complex realities of a multiracial, multiethnic society — “the slipperiness of identity” that is my own autobiography.
Stephen Julius Stein
Yesterday at one of our food pantries, the 18 year-old teen, with a beauty befitting a star on “90210,” lay against the stone wall, her boyfriend comforting her as a case manager phoned 911, and I offered words of support to a dehydrated, vomiting, two-monthspregnant homeless woman.
The first real furniture my partner and I bought after we moved into our house ten years ago was a beautiful cherry-wood dining room table. The table came with dreams of Shabbat meals, sederim, family gatherings, communal festivities, teaching classes, and studying Torah.
What makes a home Jewish?
What books are essential to a Jewish home?
When you travel, what Jewish things do you bring with you from home?